Magic Trick
by Jenny Max
Summary: England discovers that a magic trick from America is not magic.


"A magic trick?"

Alfred nodded as he led Arthur into the kitchen. "Yea, a magic trick."

Arthur shook his head and groaned. "Alfred, I have no time for your games. I have notes to write and a presentation to prepare for. Or did you forget about the world financial meeting coming up next week? And why is _he_ here?" An angry flailing arm was directed towards France behind them, who smiled and waved in response.

"Aw, but Artie..." Bright blue eyes widened and a pink lower lip jutted out into a pout. "All you ever do is work, work, work. Why can't I show you this one little trick?"

"_Alfred_..."

"Pwease?" Eyes widened further and lashes fluttered and _God be damned_ Arthur's heartstrings were _not_ getting yanked at. Before the pout could increase in intensity, the island sighed and looked away.

"Fine, fine, but just this one trick." England found himself suddenly engulfed in a breathtaking squeeze as Alfred let out an enthusiastic "Yay!" "But just this once! We have too many things to get done. But before you do anything..." Any attempt to wriggle from the embrace was futile and Arthur opted to slump into his relenting arms. "Does that bloody frog _have_ to be here?"

"Of course he does, Artie. He doesn't believe that I'm capable of doing anything cool and magic-like."

"That is because, _l'Amerique_, I refuse to believe that you can do anything "cool" and "magic-like"." America rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort, but England was able to interrupt their argument before it began. Finally able to successfully wrench himself from Alfred's arms, he straightened his wrinkled shirt sleeves and cleared his throat.

"Don't even start fighting. Just show me what you want to show me so I can go on my merry way."

"Pfft. Fine, fine, old man. Don't get your panties in a twist." England merely pursed his lips as America retrieved a plastic mixing bowl from a cabinet and started to fill it with water in the sink. "Yo, Frankie, go fetch a broom from the pantry there, would you?"

When he proceeded to drag a chair to the middle of the kitchen, Arthur furrowed his thick eyebrows and looked between both of his companions, his suspicion not disguised in his eyes. "Wait, wait, what _is_ this magic trick you're trying to do?"

"What else would it be?" America climbed up onto the chair with the bowl carefully balanced in his large hands. "I'm going to make this water disappear."

"...You're serious." England let his head roll back and groaned in exasperation. "You're going to make a bowl of water vanish in thin air."

"Uh, yea. It's really easy, and as soon as you see it you'll think "Oh wow, Al, you're so amazing!" Because, you know, I am and stuff, and this trick _is possible_." A glare was directed at Francis who, with the broom in his hands, shrugged in disbelief.

"If you're trying to prove to that damned French bastard that this trick is possible, why don't you let him do it? Why do I have to?"

"Because, my dear _Angleterre_," France caressed his shoulder, which earned him a hearty slap on the arm, "your...ah..._experience_ with magic makes you a more ready volunteer than myself."

Arthur shifted his look between the two blonds until he let out a heavy sigh. "Whatever, just...whatever. Let's get this done so I can leave and pretend that you both don't exist. What do I need to do?"

"Mmkay, so." Alfred gestured towards Francis. "Take the broom from Frankie." Arthur did just so, his eyes narrowing as Francis winked. "Alright, what you do is really simple." The bowl was lifted so that it was placed against the ceiling. "You take the broom and use it to hold the bowl against the ceiling so it stays there."

Following the directions as he was told, he took the top end of the broom and pressed it up at the bowl so that when Alfred let go of it, it stayed in place.

"Okay, now what?"

Alfred jumped from the chair and stepped back. "Okay, so you just stay like that..."

It was then when a realization dawned on the Briton. Green eyes widened and his attention was immediately shifted from the bowl above his head to the retreating American.

"A-A-_Alfred_!"

France, who had been able to keep a straight face, snorted and broke into a loud fit of laughter. America joined his French friend's guffaws and leaned against the frame of the archway dividing the kitchen from the dining room, well out of reach of a now-fuming Arthur.

"Alfred, I demand you to get back over here and get me out of this predicament right now!"

Instead of getting the help he asked for, more laughter reached his red ears, and he twisted around so he could send a fiery glare at Francis. "_You_ were in on this? You two were _planning_ to make a fool of me?"

France managed to calm himself down into restrained chuckling, which gave him enough air to say, "I cannot believe you're so gullible!" before erupting into laughter once more. England's blubbering remained unheard, and America waved his hand.

"Well, I've got work to get done and stuff, so I'll see you later, old man."

"W-W-WAIT, NO! Get back here right now, you ass! Where are you going?" Unfortunately for Arthur, he was so preoccupied with shrieking at his former colony that he did not notice France stalking behind him until his little tush was slapped in a very vulgar and France-like way. His screams raised an octave and his hands released the broom, causing the bowl to tumble and splash water all over his shaking body.

Too shocked to react, Arthur stood stock still with his arms raised and his head hung low, water dripping from his short locks and soaking his favorite sweater vest. Francis and Alfred continued to chortle, and even as he let out a screech of rage and proceeded to chase them around the house with the broom, they still continued to laugh and taunt him regardless of the threats directed at them.

"_I SWEAR TO GOD AS SOON AS I GET MY HANDS ON YOU TWO I WILL KILL YOU SLOWLY AND PAINFULLY AND HANG YOUR CORPSES ON HER MAJESTY'S FRONT LAWN!_"

* * *

**I couldn't not do it. I'm so sorry. 8D**


End file.
